Chances
by lookingforthestars
Summary: Paige knows Walter can't process the words, so she shows him instead. (Companion to Say Something)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys! Thank you so much for the amazing support on Say Something. I debated whether to add this to SS but I thought it would be a pain to get the chapters in the order I wanted them. So I'm making it a separate story and I hope that's not too annoying. Again I'm planning about five chapters for this one but they will be a little longer than last time. Thanks for reading! :)**

What do you get a man with an IQ of 197 and an abnormally complicated relationship with material things?

Paige tapped her pencil against her desk, oblivious to the exasperated glances Happy was throwing her way. She was too lost in thought. Perhaps it was a side effect of spending all her time around people who were constantly thinking.

She wanted to give Walter a gift. Paige, in line with her high level of empathy, considered herself to be an excellent gift-giver. She could pinpoint what a person wanted before they even knew it. The recipients never returned her gifts, a point she reveled in every time she visited a friend's house and saw the item displayed prominently on their coffee table or mantelpiece, the surrounding trinkets merely serving to draw attention to the main attraction. She was the master of gifts.

But Walter was…Walter. He operated on a different plane than the rest of humanity, and while that was part of what drew her to him, it also meant that her usual tricks and charms were all but useless when it came to him.

Regardless, Paige owed him. He had helped her shaky, sneezing, feverish body into his room and taken care of her while she fought a particularly vicious infection. Walter had even picked up Ralph, who wasn't in much better shape than she was, from school and allowed the two to sleep it off in the loft. In his bed. Paige's stomach fluttered every time she recalled the way she felt being there—and the fantasies she had conjured out of boredom and delirium.

When she was finally able to stand, she watched from upstairs as Walter and Ralph sat side-by-side on the couch playing video games. She marveled at how fast Ralph appeared to recover and how Walter never seemed to get sick at all. Paige wondered if it was a genius thing—if it wasn't, then Walter was clearly not human, and if it was, then Sylvester's crippling fear of germs was seriously unfounded.

That night—and the next morning, when Walter greeted her with another cup of tea and asked how she felt—was full of kind gestures from a man who thought he was incapable of them. His insistence that he had no EQ was dying down each day, but Paige realized that Walter still didn't understand the impact he had on those around him; the way he made their lives better. She wanted to show him.

Paige had only given him one gift before—a light-up eyesore of a Christmas sweater. To her surprise, he wore it with no complaints and rewarded her with a smile that she would never forget. But she wanted this to be different, because…she was different. Her relationship with him was different. Not on the outside, of course, but things had changed between them in a thousand quiet ways since then.

After spending hours agonizing over her choices and realizing that she wouldn't get any work done as long as she was thinking about it, Paige sought Toby's help.

She approached him hesitantly and sat down on the edge of his desk. Toby looked at her with a curious expression. "This is about Walter, isn't it?"

"How do you—never mind." Paige absentmindedly ran her fingers over the hardcover textbooks stacked next to her. "I need your advice."

Toby smiled and tipped his hat toward her. "At your service, Miss Dineen. Are you looking for a way to kill our fearless leader without leaving any trace evidence?"

"Um…no." Although that wasn't to say she had never thought about it. "I want to buy Walter a gift."

"That's a shame. Murdering him would be easier." Toby leaned back in his chair and propped his legs up on the desk, folding his hands in his lap. "What you ask is challenging, but not impossible. You have come to the right place."

"It's not like I can get him a gift card to Red Lobster. The only…thing…I've ever seen him care about was a Ferrari." Paige sighed. "Which he trashed."

"Objects hold very little value to geniuses. That's why Sly gives his money away and I gamble. We get bored with our toys easily. Except the hat, of course," Toby explained, pointing at his head. "But Walt's the smartest of us, so money is really nothing more than a temporary distraction for him."

Paige only nodded. She knew Toby was right and that her desire to give Walter something meaningful was an exercise in futility. She opened her mouth to thank him when he spoke again.

"It's different for you, obviously."

Toby was studying her with an expression she couldn't quite read. Paige suddenly felt restless and swung her feet back and forth over the floor. "What is?"

"Walter," he said simply. "It doesn't matter what it is. He'll like anything you give him."

The liaison stared at him in disbelief. "There is no way that's true. Are you talking about a different Walter?"

Toby just shrugged, confident in the logic of his statement. "It's true for you. Any item you give him will remind him of you, and that's why he'll care about it."

She thought about what Toby was implying and choked back the mixture of shock, laughter, and embarrassment lodged in her throat. Paige shook her head vigorously. "I don't think so."

"Whatever you say." He held up his hands in mock defeat. "But just remember that Walt doesn't care about stuff—he cares about people and what he can do for them. It's quite fascinating, actually, from a psychological perspective. I can't imagine what the study and dissection of his brain will turn up one day."

"Toby, that's—," Paige prepared to say 'gross,' but his words sparked an idea in her mind. "Brilliant, actually. Thank you."

"And that's why you all come to me," Toby replied with a satisfied smile.

* * *

Walter took a deep breath before stepping foot in the hospital. He continued visiting Megan every Friday, but it was becoming a struggle. Her condition was clearly deteriorating, and although he hadn't given up hope, the probability that his research would be able to save her life grew smaller as time wore on. Megan understood his frustration, just like she had always understood everything about him, and their conversations often ended with her wrapping her arms around him and whispering that she was okay. He didn't believe her, but he let her do it anyway.

He greeted the staff members as he passed them—an activity he found pointless, but one that Megan encouraged—and rounded the corner to her room, bracing himself for however she might look that day.

Walter stopped short when he reached the doorway. Megan's room had been completely transformed—strings of lights were hanging from the ceiling, reflecting softly off the beige paint, and swatches of red fabric decorated the plain chairs. On opposing walls were collages featuring photographs of Megan, of Walter, of their parents in Ireland, and of the team. Potted daisies sat on the windowsill, soaking in the sunlight.

He was so lost in processing the details of the room that he nearly failed to notice Paige and Ralph standing in the corner. Ralph handed her a small painting of the Eiffel Tower before Paige secured it on the wall above Megan's bed. With the finishing touch complete, they turned in unison to face Walter and smiled.

"You did this?" Walter asked. It was a dumb question; he had caught her in the act, but he was still in shock.

Paige nodded and bit her lip. "Do you think Megan will like it?"

"Yes," he replied immediately before glancing around the room again. "Where is she?"

"Sylvester's distracting her for me. I think they're eating lunch now. Ralph, why don't you go to the cafeteria and grab them?" While the young genius skipped out of the room, Paige circled around the bed and stood next to Walter. They both studied her handiwork. "Happy rigged up an external battery so it won't use any of the hospital's electricity. The staff all loves Megan so they were pretty supportive of the idea. It's, uh…it's not as amazing as what the team did for Ralph, but it's something."

"It's incredible, Paige." He trained his eyes on her. The low lighting made her look even more impossibly beautiful than she already was. "I can't believe you did all of this."

"Megan deserves to be somewhere special," she said softly, leaning in so that she was just barely touching his shoulder. "I wanted to thank you for taking care of me and Ralph, but I wasn't sure how…and then I realized anything that made Megan happy would make you happy, too."

Paige had her head turned toward him, but her eyes refused to meet his. His heartbeat sped up as her words soaked in and he realized that her efforts weren't only for his sister. There was a moment of deep silence between them before Megan burst in.

"What is this?" she exclaimed, pushing herself into the room. Sylvester and Ralph followed closely behind her. "I leave for three hours and suddenly we're in Wonderland!"

"Is that a good thing?" Paige asked hopefully. Megan spun around and made her way over to them, a wide smile plastered on her face. She embraced Paige as well as she could with her braces and Paige smiled in relief.

"It's the coolest thing ever," Megan mumbled before glancing at Walter. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"Actually, I—" he started.

"It was Walter's idea," Paige interrupted, pulling away from Megan. "He wanted to do something that would make you smile."

Walter was uncomfortable with dishonesty—even the "little white lies" Toby was particularly fond of—but Paige had already blurted out the words and he couldn't bring himself to contradict her, so he stayed silent.

"My brother, the decorator?" Megan asked skeptically, raising her eyebrow at him.

"He thought about hacking NASA again to get blueprints for your wall, but we decided it would be easier and more legal if I did it," Paige joked. Walter blushed as she brought up one of his first truly bad decisions—but, oddly enough, the one that had led him to meeting Cabe, and—indirectly—Paige and Ralph also.

His sister's smile returned and she leaned forward, hugging Paige and Walter at the same time before crouching down and wrapping her arms around Ralph. There were tears in her eyes when she pushed herself back up. "Thank you."

"No problem," Paige replied, glancing up at Walter and giving him the kind of smile he would probably think about for months. "Ralph and I will get out of here and let you guys have your visit."

"Don't even think about it," Megan insisted, holding Sylvester's arm as he helped lower her onto the bed. "Everyone should stay. Besides," she added, holding up a metallic box from the hospital gift shop, "I have chocolate."

Paige and Ralph looked to Walter for confirmation. "Of course. Stay," he answered, and they both grinned as they pulled seats up next to Megan's bed.

"Did you rob The Home Depot? There are like a thousand lights in here," he heard Megan say before their conversation faded out of his earshot. Sylvester was on the bed, his hand resting on Megan's while he challenged Ralph to solve an equation in his head. Walter leaned against the door as he watched the family they had somehow created. It was strange and cobbled-together, but they made it work.

Walter knew that was the real gift.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I have no idea when the rest of these chapters are coming—probably not as quickly as Say Something—but this was finished so I wanted to throw it up. Hope you enjoy it!**

It was always Toby. Walter was sure that if he charted the most awkward, dangerous, and embarrassing events in his life, they would all trace back to one of Toby's harebrained suggestions.

"Come on, man, we deserve some fun," Toby insisted while the rest of the team attempted to watch a movie. "We don't have that many chances to dress up and socialize with people."

"We don't like people," Walter retorted, turning his attention back to the screen.

"You," Toby pointed at Walter, "don't like people. I find them utterly fascinating. Besides, a party would be a great opportunity to network with new clients, which means more people to help and…well, more money."

"Will you make it all the way to the casino or should I just set your check on fire now?" Happy quipped.

"Where would we even have a party?" Walter knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he wasn't going to like Toby's answer. He kicked himself for indulging the shrink.

A smile spread across Toby's face. He waved his hands around the garage. "Why, our humble abode, of course."

Happy's face turned sour. "If anyone comes near my tools I'm going to beat them until they cry for mercy," she grumbled.

"Plus I really want to see Happy in a sexy little number," Toby added before she elbowed him. "Ow, my spleen."

Walter rolled his eyes. "Absolutely not. There is no way we are ever having a party here. No."

"I think a party sounds like fun," Paige interjected.

Two weeks later, the garage was filled with people and Walter was giving directions to a group of caterers. After he had sent the last waiter out, he heard the sound of high heels clicking against the tile floor and turned to see Paige, who was entering the kitchen hand-in-hand with Ralph.

"Hey," she said shyly. Walter didn't have an immediate reply for her; his breath caught in his throat as soon as he saw her dress. It stopped just above her knees and was covered in dark blue sequins that reflected the light from the room. Her hair was pulled back loosely, showing off her bare shoulders. It was more than Walter could process; he cursed Toby and his stupid ideas for the millionth time.

"Wow," he choked out before hastily clearing his throat. "I mean, hi."

Paige giggled and bent down to talk to Ralph. "Why don't you go see if the rest of the team needs any help?" She quickly ruffled his hair before he disappeared into the crowd.

"He's getting brave," Walter said as he watched the young genius run up to Sylvester and give him an enthusiastic high-five. "I think he'll, uh, be a lot better with people than the rest of us."

"You do alright," Paige replied, taking a few steps toward him. She reached up and straightened his bowtie before resting her hands on his shoulders. Walter averted his eyes and tried not to think about how close she was. "Don't worry about tonight, okay? If you want, I'll stay with you and make sure everything goes smoothly."

He reluctantly dragged his eyes back to hers. "Paige, you don't have to. You should enjoy the party."

"Technically it's a work function and this _is_ my job." She moved her fingers almost imperceptibly, but it sent a shiver through Walter's spine. "Besides, whether you believe it or not, you're actually kind of fun to be around."

"Really?" There had been many adjectives used to describe Walter throughout his life, but 'fun,' as far as he knew, was never one of them.

"Really," she confirmed, tugging the lapels of his jacket for a second before dropping her hands. "Now let's go brag about how awesome Scorpion is."

Paige hooked her arm around his elbow and led him out of the kitchen into the buzzing crowd. Walter didn't do well in crowds, and he certainly felt strange about the eighty or so people drinking cocktails and swaying to loud music in the garage…in his home. The liaison could sense him getting uncomfortable and squeezed his forearm with her free hand. Walter was surprised by how much the small gesture worked to ease his mind.

"Mr. O'Brien! Good to see you." Anthony Pietro made his way toward them. He was a wealthy software magnate who had hired the team to find an employee selling trade secrets. Walter found him guilty of being obnoxious and wearing far too much cologne for one person, but if Scorpion only took on clients they liked, they would have folded long ago.

"Great to see you as well, Mr. Pietro." Walter forced a smile and shook his hand. "Thank you for coming. Are you having a good time?"

"Absolutely. Your bartender is a magician," Pietro replied, holding up a yellow-hued martini. "And how is the band of brainiacs?"

Walter cringed at the term— _we are geniuses, it's not that hard_ —but gritted his teeth and continued. "Wonderful. Very busy year for Scorpion. I trust that you'll call us with any problems in the future?"

"You saved my company millions, I should have you on retainer," Pietro joked loudly. As if a switch had turned on, he suddenly turned his attention to Paige and scanned her up and down. "And who is this lovely woman?"

"This is my—our—company liaison. She helps us to communicate with clients and ensure that everyone is satisfied with our results," Walter said quickly, hoping that Paige didn't notice his slip up.

She did. She blushed at the idea of being _Walter's_ anything. "I am sorry that we didn't have a chance to meet during your case, Mr. Pietro."

"So am I," he said while glancing at her for a moment too long. "Have you ever been in a private jet? It's real fun. I could take you sometime."

Walter's body stiffened. "Paige is—."

"Flattered." She nudged Walter in his side, cutting him off. He shut his mouth firmly. "I'm afraid I'm not much for flying, but I appreciate your offer."

"That's too bad, but I understand. It was wonderful to see you both." Pietro bowed slightly before heading off in the direction of the bar for another martini.

Paige turned to the genius, who was still clenching his jaw. "Walter, you need to relax. The idea is for you to connect with our clients, not fight them."

"I'm sorry," Walter said in a clipped voice. "I'm just not a fan of…"

He trailed off, and Paige tried to finish his statement. "Men flirting with me?" Walter stayed silent. "Men like that flirt with everyone. I know you're not the best at reading emotions, but I'm pretty sure even you could figure out that I'm not interested in Anthony Pietro."

She could see his muscles start to relax. "But think of what you would save on airfare," he joked quietly.

"You're ridiculous," Paige laughed. "Come on. Let's get the rest of these people over with."

* * *

It was nearing two in the morning and the reality of why Walter did not enjoy parties had come crashing down on him. He relaxed into a chair in the corner and sipped from a glass of water, feeling physically and mentally drained from exchanging pleasantries with thirty-three previous clients and twenty-seven prospective ones.

Sylvester and Ralph had once again gotten lost in a math game, arranging bottles of liquor into diagonal lines. Toby had at least waited a few hours before consuming said liquor and getting tipsy, and he followed Happy around the garage making inappropriate mechanical-themed puns. She was not amused.

"What a night, huh?" Walter jumped in his seat as Paige appeared next to him. He needed to stop losing track of his surroundings; it was jarring when he was pulled out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. Let's not ever do this again."

She smiled and, after thinking for a second, extended her hand out to him. He looked at her in confusion. "I want to dance, Walter."

The genius set down his water and continued to eye her suspiciously. "Why? Everyone has left already."

"Exactly, that's why I waited until now to ask you," she replied with mock exasperation. "I promise, just a few minutes. It's not like it would be the first time."

Walter stopped breathing temporarily as he recalled what he had done last time they danced together—more specifically, what he hoped Paige would never discover that he did. Fortunately, there would be no art-thieving billionaires to interrupt them this time. He hoped.

Paige looked at him expectantly and pushed her hand toward him again. Ignoring his sound reasoning against it, he accepted her invitation, allowing her to lead him to the center of the floor. He had blocked out the music hours ago, but he forced himself to refocus on it.

She didn't have to tell him where to put his hands; Walter typically only needed one opportunity to learn a skill. He pressed his palm against her back and pulled her close to him. They _had_ danced before, but this was different. Maybe it was because of how exhausted he was, or the fact that he knew Paige better now, or the freedom of not being on a case, but Walter found himself strangely…relaxed.

"I'm sorry that you didn't have fun tonight," Paige said, giving him an apologetic smile. "If it helps, I think it was a good business move for us."

"I've done much crazier things for Scorpion," Walter replied simply, silently willing her to continue speaking. As a rule, he didn't enjoy conversations without an intellectual purpose, but he wasn't lying when he said he loved hearing Paige's voice in his ear.

"Mmhmm." She slowly released his hand, choosing instead to wrap both of her arms around his neck and lean into his shoulder. He subconsciously tightened his grip on her waist and grazed his fingertips back and forth lightly across her back, allowing his eyelids to close. Her breathing was slow and even, and Walter hoped that she was as content as he was.

The genius had a split-second notion of carrying her to his bed and getting to wake up next to her first thing in the morning, but he dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come. The song hit its last notes and Paige pulled herself away, stretching her back as she yawned. He suppressed his disappointment.

"Thanks, Walter." The liaison smiled sleepily, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Ralph and I need to get home, it's so late. I'll help clean up in the morning?"

"Sure. No rush to come in unless we have a case," Walter assured her as she prepared to head in the direction of her sleeping son. "Paige?"

"Yeah?" she answered, turning around.

"I did have…some fun tonight."

Paige smiled at him genuinely. "But never again, right?" she joked as she walked away.

She didn't hear when Walter mumbled under his breath, "Maybe."


	3. Chapter 3

There was something wrong with Walter.

Paige could sense it immediately. He had the same look on his face that he did in that alley behind the diner on the day she met him. To everyone else he seemed unfazed, but she could read his guilt and panic as clearly as if he was shouting it.

"Walter," she said quietly, brushing her hand against his. Her heart skipped when he turned to face her and she could see his emotions in even sharper relief. "Walter, it's okay. It's not your fault."

Paige didn't blame him for being afraid. It had been thirteen hours since the team was called in to monitor a hostage situation inside First National Bank, only a few blocks from the garage. Toby profiled the hostage taker, a career criminal named Dylan, and concluded that he wasn't likely to turn violent, though his apparent intoxication made him slightly harder to predict. Walter had considered Toby's analysis along with his own observations, Sylvester's calculations, and Happy's logistics before recommending that the police department wait until Dylan grew weak and Happy could develop a safe infiltration route.

Walter's unwavering confidence in his plan—in his team—was shattered when, nearly an hour into its implementation, Dylan killed his first hostage: a seventy-five-year-old man who offered to stay behind in exchange for the release of the other captives. Toby threw down his hat, Happy cursed, Paige cried and Sylvester hid his head in his hands as they watched the situation unfold on computer screens in a mobile command center set up outside the bank. Walter didn't react at all, which was his own way of reacting; the team knew that his past experiences had made any loss of life especially devastating to him.

After the initial shock had worn away, the noise inside the truck reached a fever pitch. "You said he wouldn't hurt the hostages! What the hell happened?" Capt. Sorvo yelled at Walter, who stared at him blankly. Toby stepped between them and held up his hands defensively.

"Based on his record and his psychological markers, he seemed highly unlikely to turn violent, but as I said, any drugs in his system might make him act more impulsively," the shrink explained, but Sorvo ignored him.

"We had a strike team ready, but you insisted we had time," the officer sputtered angrily. "Agent Gallo assured me you were the best, but this partnership is over. I'm sending my men in."

"No!" Sylvester exclaimed, jumping out of his chair so quickly that he knocked it over. "Given the target's sudden shift in behavior, there is a 60% chance that he will kill again if your team charges into that building headfirst."

"I can get them in undetected but I need more time," Happy yelled from the back of the truck. "Half an hour, maybe. Can you find a way to distract him?"

"Mr. O'Brien, you've got two minutes to give me a plan I can work with or I'm calling it." Walter was silent, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Sorvo positioned himself squarely across from the genius, at a proximity that Walter was surely uncomfortable with. "I suggest you get your head in the game or there will be a lot more death on your hands today."

"Stop," Paige commanded, coming up to Walter's side and grabbing his arm gently. It was normally her job to smooth things over between Scorpion and the 'normals' they worked with, but Sorvo's aggression would only shut Walter down further. "He'll figure this out, but you need to give him some space. We'll be back in two minutes."

Still gripping Walter's arm, Paige led him through the doors of the truck and into a quiet area less than thirty feet away. She moved her hand down to cover his. "Walter, are you okay?"

He took a deep breath for what seemed like the first time since the shooting. Paige could feel his hand shaking slightly. "We should have predicted the change in his behavior. Toby's analysis is never wrong. I don't understand—."

"I promise we'll figure that out later, but it doesn't matter right now." Bracing herself for his reaction, Paige stepped closer to Walter and rested her palms on his face, shifting it so that he was looking straight into her eyes. "Forget about everything. Start from the beginning. Dylan is violent. Do we send a team in now or do we wait for Happy?"

"I don't…I don't know," Walter said, panic seeping back into his voice. He was clearly struggling to process too much information—too many ideas, doubts, and feelings—at once.

"Yes, you do. Look at me," Paige directed, tightening her grip. "Focus on me. Breathe." She led him in a series of slow breaths and could see his mind start to refocus. "Good. Block out everything you feel—I'm giving you permission this time. Focus on the facts. Do we send in a team?"

Walter shut his eyes and Paige could almost hear the gears turning in his brain. It was fascinating; centuries of human knowledge and experience being pieced together to solve one problem. When he looked at her again, his eyes were clear and he was smiling. "I know what to do."

The genius grabbed Paige's hand as they raced back to the truck.

* * *

Paige gripped her knife tightly as she sliced a handful of lemons. It had been a demanding day for everyone on the team, and she decided to stay at the garage and stress cook. She wanted to be somewhere she felt comfortable—safe. Scorpion.

"You did a great job today. You saved a lot of people," Walter said from the doorway. She paused her slicing but couldn't bring herself to turn around. The liaison maintained her calm during the job; Walter needed her to be strong. The second the adrenaline wore off, though, the reality of what they had witnessed hit her in brutal waves. She felt nervous and weak and a million other things that even she couldn't comprehend.

"I didn't do anything. The trap you set for Dylan was…well, genius," she answered, setting a preheat temperature on the oven in an attempt to keep her hands busy.

"I wouldn't have figured it out without your help." Paige didn't hear him move, but suddenly he was next to her, leaning sideways against the counter. "Are you…upset?" he asked hesitantly.

There were occasions—not many, but some—that made Paige long for the days when Walter couldn't read her. "Aren't you?" she snapped, knowing that it was the absolute wrong thing to say to a man who couldn't process the pain and anger even if he had it.

Paige expected a speech about the "greater good" scenario—how the remaining eighteen hostages were recovered safely and Dylan was apprehended, making the elderly man an acceptable loss—but Walter's answer shocked her. "Yes," he admitted quietly.

She knew it was the truth—he would never tell her anything else—but when Paige took a chance and glanced over at him, he was staring intensely at the floor, and she hated herself for pressing him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Walter." On impulse, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his neck. She wasn't sure if it was for him or for her, or both. Walter was stiff for a second—the time it took him to adapt grew shorter with each touch, and although Paige told herself she initiated contact to help him connect with others, it wasn't the truth—before he returned the embrace and held on to her tightly.

Their fleeting moments of contact were never enough for her. She had replayed every one in her head a thousand times—even the occasions when he stood a little too close to her, so close that it had to be deliberate—and she wanted more. She scolded herself for expecting that from Walter, of all people, but she kept thinking that the next look he gave her, the next thing he said to her, the next gesture he made would tell her what she desperately wanted— _needed_ —to know.

The oven beeped, causing the two to jump apart. Walter looked slightly flushed and Paige was sure she wasn't any better. He let out a barely audible laugh. "Do you, um…do you need any help?"

"Yeah," she replied, the tension that had fueled her to cook in the first place finally subsiding. "Want to make the rolls?"

* * *

It had been surprisingly easy to gather the team for dinner. No one could focus on their projects; not then, not that night. What they really wanted was to be together. To know they had done the best they could, the best anybody could have done under the circumstances.

Walter was sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork he had swiped from Paige's incoming box. It seemed like the least he could do. He hated to admit, even to himself, how close he had come to shutting down earlier that day. Many more lives could have been lost because of his inability to think clearly. Only Paige was able to see the truth and bring him back from the edge. She had saved him from any more bloodguilt—guilt he would never be able to handle on top of Baghdad. He could not repay her adequately.

The genius didn't even realize that he was watching Paige and Ralph sitting across from each other at the kitchen island until he heard them clink their cups of hot chocolate. Though he would never admit it, Walter was relieved when Paige chose to stay at the garage instead of going home. He had come to rely—maybe too much—on the way she brought him back to Earth after every case, kept him from getting so lost in his mind that he forgot to enjoy the life he had built.

He didn't want to need anyone, but he was becoming more and more certain that he needed her.

 **AN: Don't quite know how I feel about this chapter, but I hope you all enjoyed it. :) Thanks for the awesome reviews so far. The next chapter will be about what happens after their kiss in Say Something!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Warning: this is some fluff. This whole story is fluff but this chapter especially. It takes place directly after the kiss from Say Something. Hope you enjoy. :)**

"Walter! Get down here!"

Toby's voice caused Walter and Paige to jump out of their skin. She realized how tightly she was holding on to his shirt and gradually loosened her grip, allowing him to step away even though she didn't want him to. Walter's fingers grazed her cheekbones before he dropped his hands to his sides. They stood in silence for a moment, each trying to catch their breath.

"Toby," Walter grumbled. Paige broke out into laughter and the genius smiled, the tension effectively broken between them. "Are you…was that…okay?"

She could tell he was fighting to find the right words, and for once, she wasn't sure what to say either. Paige had dreamed about kissing Walter for months, but it did nothing to prepare her for the reality. She'd gotten a small taste of it when she kissed him in the hospital after his accident—an occurrence neither of them had ever mentioned, and Paige was reasonably sure he was still unaware of—but having him as an active participant was infinitely better.

Paige realized she had been silent for too long and Walter was staring at her with a concerned expression. She reached up and rested her hands on his shoulders, just like she had done on the night of the party, and gave him a reassuring smile. "Better than okay."

Walter relaxed visibly and opened his mouth to say something when Toby yelled again from the bottom of the stairs. "Walter! We need you, man!"

The genius rolled his eyes and glanced at her helplessly. "Go," Paige ordered, rubbing his shoulder gently. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Walter gave her a brief, genuine smile—the smile that she now realized _was_ exclusively for her—and snuck one last look at her over his shoulder before heading out the door of the loft.

Paige collapsed on top of his bed, no longer trusting her legs to hold her up. She ran her fingers through her hair and adjusted her sweater, checking in the mirror to make sure none of her makeup had smeared. It was futile, though—the glow in her skin and the way she bit her lip to keep from grinning would be a dead giveaway, especially to Toby.

It was the best first kiss she could have ever imagined, and a part of her hoped it would be the last first kiss she ever had.

* * *

It felt like an eternity before the team started to trickle out of the garage. Walter had been tasked with decrypting files on Damon's computer and uncovering the details of several other bombing plots—she wasn't sure how he could focus when her head was still spinning, but his ability to compartmentalize seemed to be unparalleled.

Paige made up an excuse about needing to finish some paperwork, which encouraged Happy, Toby, and Sly to make a hasty exit lest they get roped into helping. The sitter had agreed to watch Ralph for the night and Paige waited nervously for her and Walter to finally get their time alone. She desperately wanted to talk to him, find out what he was thinking, but there was also a subtle fear that he didn't want what she wanted, that she would be heartbroken knowing they came so close and it wasn't enough.

Paige grew restless at her desk and headed to the loft, taking up residence on one of the red couches. Walter arrived twenty minutes later, lingering in the doorway momentarily before lowering himself down next to her.

Despite everything that had happened that day, Paige and Walter were both paralyzed by their insecurities. She broke the silence first, turning sideways partially to face him. "How are you doing?" It seemed like a stupid question, but they had to start somewhere.

Walter cleared his throat, flicking his eyes between her and the floor. "Good. It was a very, uh…high-stress day."

Paige felt a spark of worry. Had he been acting impulsively when he kissed her? Was it only a response to his heightened emotional state? "That's the job, right?" She tried to crack a smile, but the tension in her voice was obvious.

"Yeah." The genius drew in a deep breath—and then another—before letting out a rapid stream of words. "Paige, I know we were both upset earlier and I probably surprised you, so I won't hold you to it if you don't want me to, and I promise it won't affect anything here with your job or with Ralph—."

The liaison knew she wouldn't be able to talk over him, so she scooted closer to him and leaned forward, touching her forehead to his. It was the surest way she knew to calm him down, and in an instant, he was silent and all she could hear was his steady breathing and his strong heartbeat. "I want you to hold me to it," she whispered. "This is what I want, Walter."

He leaned into the contact for another few seconds before slowly pulling back to look at her. "Are you sure?"

Paige laughed gently and reached down to grab his hand. "I'm sure. I've had a lot of time to think about it." Walter raised his eyebrows at her statement but didn't answer. "Is this…what you want?" she asked tentatively.

"I don't know…"

She leaned back in surprise, letting go of his hand. "Oh."

"Paige, no." Walter groaned. "I knew I would mess this up. What I mean is yes. I do. I just, I don't know what to do. You of all people know that I'm not…great…with relationships."

Paige settled back into the couch, having thought for a moment that she might bolt out of the room in humiliation. "Walter," she said quietly, trailing her fingers up and down her forearm nervously. "I know you think that, but it's not true. Look at the team. And Megan and Ralph. When you care about someone, you always put them first. That's the most anyone can do in a relationship."

Walter nodded but looked uncertain. "I've never had any of my…romantic relationships turn out successfully, though."

Paige could see how vulnerable he was allowing himself to be around her and wanted nothing more than to kiss him again, but she settled for taking his hand. "Neither have I," she said, her voice emphatic. "Your relationships don't fail because of who you are, Walter. They fail because you never found the right person. Same as all the rest of us."

There weren't many ways in which Walter was similar to other people. He looked intrigued by the concept. "I just don't know if you would be…I mean, I want you to be…happy," he said finally, daring to look up at her. She wished there was a way to assuage his fear, make him feel for himself how she felt every time she thought about how lucky she had been to find Scorpion.

"I am happy, Walter." She squeezed his hand a little tighter than she meant to, but he didn't seem to mind. "You know that my life before all this wasn't exactly a cakewalk. Outside of when Ralph was born, this has been the absolute best time in my life. And a big part—the biggest part—of that has been you. Just you, being yourself."

Her words appeared to strike a chord with him, and her heart twisted when she thought about all the times that he, like Ralph, had been pressured to suppress what made him special and change simply because people couldn't make sense of him. It certainly wasn't exclusive to geniuses, though.

"I can wait, Walter," Paige said, even though she knew it was the last thing she wanted. "If you need time to figure things out…"

"No," he replied almost immediately. She was taken back by his sudden forcefulness. "When we met you in the diner that day, you understood us in a way most people usually don't. That's why I hired you." He dragged his thumb across the tips of her fingers, sending a sensation she couldn't name through her body. "You translate the world for me. That was our deal. It will probably take me a long time to figure this out, but it'll be much longer without you."

Paige couldn't help the relieved sigh that left her lips. "Okay then."

"I'm still going to mess up sometimes," he warned.

She laughed. "It's okay. I will too." Her smile slowly faded and she stared at their hands as her fingers drifted over his palm. Walter responded by rubbing her knuckles. It wasn't forced, like it had been with Sima—it felt like they had been practicing for years. Paige blushed furiously as she remembered Walter whispering how much he loved hearing her voice. "I guess it's no big secret that we both have trouble trusting people, but I want you to know that I'm in, okay? If nothing has scared me off by now, it's not going to."

She shifted her weight on the couch and rested her head against his shoulder. Walter nodded quietly before leaning back to make her more comfortable and placing his free arm behind her. She wondered if it had been difficult for him, in a million moments since they met, not to reach out and touch her. It had certainly been a struggle on her end.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Paige asked after several minutes of silence. "I thought it was…obvious…what I felt."

"Nothing related to emotion is ever obvious to me," he quipped, but his voice was serious. "Besides, Drew came back, and I didn't think…" he stopped.

"Think what?"

Paige could feel Walter's shoulders rise and fall. "I couldn't compete with him," he finished.

She couldn't believe he thought he had to. "Walter, you were never going to lose me to Drew."

"People like me have lost to guys like Drew since the beginning of time," Walter said matter-of-factly, without a trace of bitterness. "He could…understand you, connect with you, and then there's the fact that…" She glanced up to see a defeated expression on his face. "The three of you are a family."

"Once upon a time, we were. I forgave him when he came back, but I could never really trust him again. It didn't matter anyway." Paige shut her eyes and pulled Walter's arm around her shoulders, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He didn't resist. "I wanted something else. Someone else."

His heart raced at her words, and she could feel the beats permeating his body and vibrating through hers. "I tried, Paige. I tried to tell you on the cliff, and…after the case with Maya…"

The liaison sat up suddenly, staring at him in confusion. "What do you mean, after the case with Maya?"

Walter looked almost ashamed and averted his eyes. "I drove to your apartment that night. Toby told me to take a risk so I did…but you were with Drew. You looked happy."

"I had no idea." Paige swallowed hard and covered her face with her hand. "I can't believe you saw us. Drew was only there for Ralph. I was…uh, preoccupied."

Walter raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I couldn't sleep that night," she admitted. "All I thought about was how crazy the case had been and how terrified I was when you were under that RV." Paige placed her hand on his knee and squeezed it lightly. "I might have looked happy, Walter, but I can guarantee I would've been happier if it was you."

He looked shocked and satisfied at the same time. Moving achingly slowly, Paige rested her hand on Walter's jaw and pressed her lips against his. He seemed uncertain, his earlier brashness gone, and let her take the lead. She didn't mind. She hoped there would be more—many more—after it.

Paige pulled away, savoring the quiet moment before the rest of Walter's words sank in and her eyes popped open. "Wait, Toby knew?"

Walter laughed at her delayed response. "I think Toby saw it before I did."

"Shrinks," she said in mock exasperation before leaning in to kiss Walter again.


	5. Chapter 5

**I hope you enjoyed this story! Gonna take a breather to work on my own story (it'll be posted under the same username on Fictionpress, if anyone is interested). Thank you all for your awesome support!**

 _It wasn't supposed to happen like this._

It's not the first time Paige has thought that during a case—nearly every mission starts with a simple, efficient plan and ends with the team in a car chase or something similarly ridiculous, scrambling to complete the objective and _survive_.

But today is worse. What started as an operation to stop the sale of information that would likely lead to a handful of political assassinations spiraled out of control in a matter of hours, and Paige watched in horror as the corporate headquarters where Scorpion traced the seller went up in flames.

Agent Gallo had parked their van in the garage across the street and the team attempted to blend in with the employees taking breaks outside until Walter was close enough to tap into the company intranet and shut down the exchange. The ground shook underneath them as the first explosive detonated.

There was predictable panic among the employees, who scrambled away from the building. Walter grabbed his equipment and Paige's hand before bolting up from the table. "Over there!" Sylvester yelled, pointing to a complex of storage units to the left of the offices. Even without him specifying it, Paige knew that Sly had calculated the minimum distance they would be safe if other bombs of similar size went off.

She tried to block out the screams from inside the building and the sirens blaring in the distance as they reached their destination and she leaned against a metal door, drawing in deep breaths to calm herself. "Everyone okay?" Walter asked to a chorus of confirmations. He turned to Paige and placed his hand on her cheek, forcing her to look up at him. "Stay here."

The genius motioned to Agent Gallo and started to leave, but she grabbed his arm. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Cabe and I can still get people out. The fire's only affecting the top three floors now," he replied in a factual tone that did not reflect the severity of the situation. "Emergency help won't arrive for another four and a half minutes."

Walter tried to pull away but she refused to loosen her grip. "Are you crazy? You have no idea what else is going on in there. That whole building can come down!"

"Paige, please, there's no time for this," he pleaded with her. "We'll be fine."

"Walter—."

He let out a sigh and turned so that he was facing her directly, effectively blocking their conversation from the eyes of the other team members. "This is what we do, Paige."

"Please don't," was all the liaison could choke out, her throat dry and tight.

Their conversation had taken seconds, but it felt like hours were passing as she waited for his response. The genius swallowed hard and said in a low voice, "I have to. You know I have to."

And as much as she wished she didn't, she understood. Running into danger was what he did—what he needed to do to cope with the guilt he'd carried for fifteen years.

"Kid, we need to go!" Cabe yelled. Walter looked to her for confirmation.

"Go," Paige said, ignoring the shaking in her hands. "And come back."

He didn't say anything—he didn't have to—just leaned in and kissed her quickly and intensely, the kind of kiss that could mean goodbye if needed. Walter gave her a barely perceptible nod before he and Agent Gallo disappeared in the direction of the fire and Paige slid onto the ground, holding her head in her hands.

She became suddenly aware of Happy, Toby, and Sylvester staring at her, mouths open, and she guessed it was as good a time for them to find out as any.

"How long have you two…" Toby trailed off. Paige knew it took a lot to make the shrink speechless.

"Really not the time," she snapped. "Can you help them or not?"

"Right," Toby replied before snapping open a laptop and initiating a trace on the suspect using Walter's software. Happy turned on her comm and paced back and forth as she talked Walter and Cabe through the most effective escape routes, based on her memory of the building's blueprints. Sylvester ran calculations on how quickly the fire would spread and yelled them out to the mechanic, who passed them along.

Paige held her breath.

* * *

Paige rifled through the massive supply closet in the garage, gathering bandages and antiseptic into her arms. Walter had been stitched up on site after firefighters saved most of the employees in the building and suppressed the flames, but that was several hours earlier, and Paige insisted on a follow up.

He was lucky to get by with a twisted ankle and a few scratches after a frantic maintenance worker had pushed him down the stairs while fleeing. Entering that building blindly was reckless and insane, but Paige found it wasn't anger that was eating her alive. When he and Cabe had stumbled out the front door, followed by a stream of employees—probably fifty in all, she guessed—that suffered from nothing more than a mild cough, she knew that it would have been wrong to stop him. He used his intelligence to help others and it was selfish to expect anything different.

It was just harder than she imagined.

Inhaling deeply, she turned and made her way to the loft, where Walter was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring off into space. A smile colored his face when he saw her.

Paige avoided his gaze and knelt on the floor next to him, pouring solution onto a cotton ball and dabbing it on the scrapes above his eyebrow and down his cheek. Walter attempted a joke to lighten the mood.

"Normals tend to panic during emergencies, who knew?" When she didn't respond, he grabbed her hand and lowered it away from his face. "Paige, you're upset."

Walter was still no expert on emotions, but he had learned to identify the telltale signs that Paige was unhappy—her silence, her lack of eye contact, the tension in her shoulders. Sometimes she told him what was wrong right away, sometimes she needed a while to express herself correctly, but she was always clear on whether or not he was the one to blame.

"I was just…worried today," she replied after a long minute. "I've seen you put yourself at risk a million times, and it shouldn't feel any different now, but it does."

Walter nodded thoughtfully and took the supplies out of Paige's hand, setting them on the bed, before wrapping both of his palms around hers. "I know."

Paige had expected him to dismiss her concerns with a quick _this is our job_ or _I'm alive, what does it matter_?, but there was something much more serious in his demeanor. "You do?"

"I've never thought twice about…doing what we do," he explained, staring intently at their hands. "But I did today. When you asked me not to go."

Paige could see from his expression that he had been genuinely conflicted. She bit her lip, weighing her words carefully before responding. "But you had to go," she said, not to reassure him but because…it was the truth. "I told you that I would accept you for who you are, Walter, and this is a part of you. It might scare me sometimes, but it doesn't mean that I don't understand or respect it."

He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her palm. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

"Just be careful, okay?" Paige felt an almost involuntary smile reach her face. "I'm not done with you yet."

He chuckled and reached forward, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She shivered as his fingertips lingered, brushing faintly over her skin. "Paige?"

"Yeah?" she mumbled, starting to lose herself in his touch.

"I think that I, um…love you."

Paige crashed quickly back into reality. The words, so brief and unexpected she thought she might have imagined them, hung in the air. She realized that Walter was looking at her expectantly, but she could only stare back in shock.

"Walter, you don't have to say that," she said once she recovered. There was a flash of pain in his dark eyes and he pulled his hands away from hers.

"Is that…not how you feel?" he stammered, seeming disoriented. It was clear she hadn't responded the way he expected.

Paige racked her brain for a way to explain herself before he shut down and pretended their conversation didn't happen—his default response when he felt awkward or hurt or out of control.

"Hey, no, of course it is," she said, pushing herself up slightly so that they were face-to-face. She hesitated for a second before intertwining her fingers behind his neck and lessening the distance between them. "What I mean is that…well, up until recently, you were pretty adamant that love didn't exist. I wanted to give you time to sort that out without any pressure from me. I just don't want you to say it because you think it's what I want to hear, or that I'll get tired of waiting for you to feel a certain way."

Walter absorbed her words before shaking his head. "You know I don't say things I don't mean, Paige."

The liaison took a deep breath while her hand combed through Walter's hair. How she felt about him had been clear to her for nearly a year, but they didn't need to say the words. It was evident in the countless small things that they did for each other every day.

"You think that I don't understand the concept of love," Walter continued, not waiting for her to answer. She could tell by the way he studied her that he was trying to understand what was happening in her mind. "Maybe that's true, but to say that something didn't exist or wasn't…worthwhile because I couldn't understand it was ignorance. Unknown variables are extremely common. I thought love didn't exist because I'd never felt it, but…I've never experienced the emotions I have around you either. So it stands to reason that those feelings could constitute love."

Walter relaxed, satisfied with his explanation. He could wax poetic about math and science for days, but it was rare for him to string that many words together during a personal conversation.

And Paige was tempted to accept them—she desperately wanted what he was saying to be true, but she needed to approach the topic rationally. One wrong turn could ruin things between them permanently, and Paige wouldn't allow that to happen.

"I know it frustrates you not to understand things, Walter, but please listen to me when I say that you don't need to force this," she replied slowly. "If you express something like this before you're ready, you'll realize it was a mistake and you'll feel trapped and resentful. I've been there, okay? Normals do the same thing and it always ends badly."

For a moment, Walter seemed lost in thought, and Paige knew he was planning his next words. She counted down the seconds until he would, predictably, agree and tell her they would resume the conversation at a later date.

What he said next was something she never expected. "Paige, I can't ever stop thinking about you. I'm happy when you're around me and lost when you aren't." He was staring at her intensely, sparking a fire that seemed to rage through her body. "What I see in my future—what I want—is completely different now because of you. I might not understand all of this fully, so you'll just have to tell me. Is that what being in love feels like?"

Paige felt tears brimming her eyes, and she wiped them away quickly. She never doubted that Walter cared about her, but she wasn't sure he was capable of feeling those things for her—that crazy, illogical rush of being with the right person. Her voice was too unsteady to speak, so it came out as a whisper. "I think so."

Paige remembered every time Walter had smiled at her—when she sang in the garage, when she stood under the fake snow at Christmas, when she told him that she and Ralph were staying with Scorpion—but his smile now was unlike anything she had ever seen. "The evidence is conclusive, then," he said, his palms rising up to touch her face. "Paige, I love you."

And in one quick motion, Paige had launched forward and kissed him, looking for some way to release the overwhelming happiness inside her, like fireworks bursting under her skin. Walter returned everything she gave him and more until they broke apart.

Unable to manage a more dignified response, Paige let out a giddy laugh. "I love you too."

"Stop making out and get down here!" Toby's voice rang through the garage, causing Walter and Paige to jump. "We're going out tonight!"

The genius and the liaison looked at each other before bursting into laughter. "Toby," they grumbled in unison.


End file.
